<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Never Let Me Go by Kono_Rohan_Da</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27310243">Never Let Me Go</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kono_Rohan_Da/pseuds/Kono_Rohan_Da'>Kono_Rohan_Da</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rohan's Whumptober 2020 [31]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Atsumu Miya-centric, Brotherly Angst, Complete, Cute Hinata Natsu, Earthquakes, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Left for Dead, Major Character Injury, Men Crying, Mild Spoilers, Minor Miya Atsumu/Sawamura Daichi, Miya Atsumu is a Good Friend, Miya Atsumu is a Good Sibling, Miya Osamu Needs a Hug, Miya Osamu is a Good Sibling, Natural Disasters, Protective Miya Atsumu, Recovery, References to Depression, Whumptober 2020, Wilderness Survival, tsunami</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:27:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,002</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27310243</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kono_Rohan_Da/pseuds/Kono_Rohan_Da</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>March of 2011, not even two weeks after the end of his second year of high school and the gap before his third, Miya Atsumu goes to visit family the Iwate Prefecture, happy to have some “me time” without his parents or brother. He leaves with a smile on his face and a snarky remark on his lips. </p><p>Osamu Miya stands in front of the TV. “The Tohoku earthquake,” the newsanchor says with a solemn face, the blood slowly draining from Osamu’s face, “the most powerful recorded earthquake to hit Japan. Hundreds are already dead or missing. The quake triggered a tsunami, which reached the Iwate and Miyagi Prefectures twenty minutes ago.” Osamu ignores the rest of that the person says, rushing to his phone to dial his brother’s phone number. </p><p>“This number does not exist”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Atsumu &amp; Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu &amp; Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rohan's Whumptober 2020 [31]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948426</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>346</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The train is comfortable- the seat he got isn’t too plush or too hard, the other occupants are quiet, the trains slight rattling on the tracks is a soothing feeling. He looks at his phone, scrolling through the pictures on it while he flips his wallet open and close with his other hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In theory, he should be really happy about this. Two weeks away from home, away from Hyogo, to stay kilometers away with his father’s side of the family in the Iwate Prefecture. History has forced him to memorize the lay of all of Japan, so he knows that Iwate is adjacent to Miyagi on the northern front of the latter prefecture. He’ll be kilometers away from his mother, his father, and Osamu. Kilometers away from his friends and his mother’s side of the family. He’s already starting to feel the mild sadness and regret which he’ll never admit to anyone. He and Osamu may have their differences, but gods help him he really loves his brother, his best friend, the only one he can count on. His brother has helped him out so many times without actually stating it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unlike Atsumu’s show of love which is verbal and obvious, Osamu’s style is small and unobvious but more precious: a plate of onigiri on his desk; waking up with his head on their shared desk with a blanket wrapped around him and </span>
  <em>
    <span>dumbass </span>
  </em>
  <span>written on a sticky note and stuck on his forehead; triumphant smiles when the things they do together work out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s two o’clock now. Miyagi is where Karasuno and Kageyama and Hinata are, he vaguely remembers. He looks out the window- they’re probably in that prefecture by now, a little longer until he’s in Iwate. There’s trees and buildings, all integrated together. He raises his phone and takes a short video of the outside- he can slow-mo through the video and take screenshots of the good moments. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His phone slips out of his hand with a sudden jolt. The rattling of the train has increased. Worry flashes through him but then he remembers that it’s probably just a mild earthquake. On cue, the announcement system in the train comes to life and they start to slow down, brakes screeching. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. We are experiencing a mild earthquake at the moment. We will resume out travel shortly after. If you would like something to snack on while he wait, we are offering complimentary snack in the dining car. Thank you for your patience.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Complimentary” seems to trigger everyone in the car except for Atsumu. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gods, people are always after free stuff even with an earthquake. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He pockets his wallet from where he left it on the table infront of him after getting bored of flipping it open and closed. Soon enough, he’s the only one left in the car. The rumbling increases and this is a bit scary, actually. It’s shaking a lot- he doesn’t remember ever being in an earthquake this strong. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He closes his eyes. He’s feeling a bit annoyed, actually, as if it’s someone’s fault that the earth is moving beneath then. The rumblings stops for a moment, only to be taken up again after a few seconds of nothing. Opening his eyes, he growls in annoyance, getting up to move to the food car-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only to see out the opposite window a tall something in the distance. It’s blue? And it’s moving. And it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span>, stretching like the wall in that one Titan anime Aran made him watch an episode of. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tsunami</span>
  </em>
  <span> it clicks in his head as the shaking increases. Before he knows it, he’s pulling on the red emergency lever on his window, opening it. He jumps out, feeling so guilty he’s nont telling anyone </span>
  <em>
    <span>but can’t they see a fucking wave</span>
  </em>
  <span>!? Fear courses through his veins, his wallet weighing down in his pant pocket, phone tightly grasped in his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The landing isn’t rough, years of volleyball teaching him how to fall and land properly. High land, high land. That wave is </span>
  <em>
    <span>humongous</span>
  </em>
  <span>, like the CGI tsunamis in the movies. He’s almost knocked off his feet because oh right- it’s also an </span>
  <em>
    <span>earthquake</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He can’t see any immediate high land, so he runs. Away from the train and in the opposite direction of the wave. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He probably only has minutes. His legs pump, faster than he’s gone in any volleyball game, arms swinging back and forth. He forces his breathing to remain steady. He makes sure his feet barely touch the ground to limit his chances of falling, but he still tips and grazes the ground and surrounding trees. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He breaks through the forestry, looking over his shoulder. He can’t see the wave or the train, the trees covering them from sight. That only makes him run faster. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Now </span>
  </em>
  <span>he hears the alarm, a siren, a warning of the oncoming danger. He can hear the wave too- he thinks. It sounds like what he can only describe as destruction. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he doesn’t make it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, people are rushing to escape. Atsumu sees a tall structure in sight, and he pumps his burning legs even more, regardless of the fact that they feel like they’re going to either give up on him or fall off, either outcome leading to one thing: death. And the people, well, they only care about their own lives. Just like Atsumu. He wonders if he could of warned anyone in the train. There had been a baby in his car-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s clipped in the hip by a car, sending to the ground. The vehicle doesn’t stop, rather increasing and going farther and farther into the distance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“HEY!” Atsumu instinctively shouts. His hip </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurts</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The ground is shaking so much that he can see the loose pieces of tar jumping up and down, his own body scraping against the rough road. His hands and face are scraped. He pulls his feet under him, gasping at the pain it brings in his hip. He forces himself onto his feet and the only thing he can hear are the klazons and the destruction. He limps forward, pain shooting up his ankle and hip. He looks behind him, freezing when he sees it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s almost here</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s definitely lower than before, probably because of how far inland it it. He swallows. He rushes to the closest building, a two story house with balconies, and jumps up, hands wrapping around the balcony bars. He hauls himself up and then jumps to grip the edge of the roof, managing to swing himself up while ignoring the pain in favor of surviving. He turns around and looks at the tsunami. A few seconds away. Maybe if he had found a slightly taller building, he could of made it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He quickly pulls his phone out, calling his brother. Of course, it immediately goes to voicemail. That’s good, he thinks, laughing wetly when he hears Osamu’s snarky automated voice. He didn’t realize he started crying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey Samu” Atsumu starts, keeping his eyes on the wave. It looks like it’s coming only for him, the endless breath of it about to close in and envelope him. “I” he swallows. “I’m not gonna lie to yah." And he record his message, the smell of salt increasing, the feel of death coming closer. The blue is murky, it’s dark. It’s scary. He doesn’t want to go. The tears stream down his face, sobs mingling with his voice. “I’m not gonna be home in two weeks- I-I don’t think I’m ever gonna see ya again and I’m so sorry and yer, I love ya, Osamu, I love ya so so much and please don’t be sad and,” he small sob escapes his lips. "Bye, Samu. I hope I don’t see you seen. Sleep well. Do good. I love you.” He ends the call, finalizing everything. The voice message has been sent. He said his goodbye. The blue is so close. He could hear the trees falling with the force of it, doing nothing to stop its advancement. He closes his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The world is wet and cold, there’s no air. It feels like his whole body got hit by a wall. His head hits something. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s the last thing he thinks. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu comes home from the grocery store, putting them on the kitchen island. He spots his phone and he goes to it, checking to see if he has any notification. He snorts. </span>
  <em>
    <span>One missed call and one voicemessage- Atsumu</span>
  </em>
  <span>. So the idiot finally got the message to give on trying to call him over and over again? He wonders what the one voice message will be this time- the poor train occupants, being forced to listen to an obnoxious rant or something along the lines. But he’ll always listen to them, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>sometimes </span>
  </em>
  <span>they’re actually important. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first thing Osamu hears when he opens the voicemessage isn’t the distant movement of a train, but of wind and distant sirens and something else that he can’t describe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey Samu." He hears Atsumu’s voice say, deprived of its normal texture by the recording but the emotion no less dampened. “I” a pause “I’m not gonna lie to yah. I’m not gonna be home in two weeks.” Osamu’s blood freezes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-I don’t think I’m ever gonna see ya again and I’m so sorry and yer, I love ya, Osamu, I love ya so so much and please don’t be sad and” his heart cracks when he hears him sob. His brother- </span>
  <em>
    <span>sob</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Follow yer dreams, okay? That restaurant yah talked about? Go ahead- I know it’ll be delicious.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t do this, what are you saying?” Osamu whispers, fear paralyzing the rest of his body. A glimpse at the kitchen clock tells him that it’s two forty-five. He should be in Iwate by now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s so close now” Atsumu absently adds. “I love ya Samu, I love you, don’t ever forget that. And I’m so sorry. I-I have ta go now," his voice quivers and then it breaks. “I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna end this call, but then you’ll never get this and gods, I’m so scared. I don’t know how death feels like- I don’t wanna feel it. And I’m sorry fer annoyin yah like this, but I needed to call yah” he admits. “I-I don’t wanna say it, I don’t want yah to hear it...but if you turn on the TV, maybe, you’ll find out what’s happening. Guess I was at the wrong place at the wrong time- I always am getting in trouble.” Osamus doesn’t realize that a tear streaks down his own face. “Bye, Samu. I hope I don’t see you seen. Sleep well. Do good. I love you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hears the wind and the world Atsumu was in for another second before the voicemessage ends. Osamu quickly saves it, favoriting it so he can’t accidentally delete it, before running to the TV. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Today, Tohoku experienced a horrible disaster,” the news anchor says with a solemn face, the blood slowly draining from Osamu’s face. Tohoku...Iwate is in that region “the most powerful recorded earthquake to hit Japan. Hundreds are already dead or missing. The quake triggered a tsunami, which reached the Iwate and Miyagi Prefectures thirty minutes ago.” Osamu quickly raises his phone, tapping and finding his brother’s contact, calling it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on come on come on” He begs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This number does not exist.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> The robotic voice replies. Osamu’s grip laxes, phone falling to the floor, the carpet keeping it from being damaged. Tears prickle harder at the corner of his eyes. Osamu falls onto his knees and </span>
  <em>
    <span>screams</span>
  </em>
  <span>, doubling over and pulling at his hair, the tears falling in tear with the violent sobs that tear through his throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hours later, his parents come home oblivious to what happened to either of their sons. They spot Osamu on the ground in front of the TV, watching the continued live coverage of the after effects of the worse earthquake and tsunami Japan has experienced in a long time. He’s wrapped in Atsumu’s blanket, his brother’s jersey from last year with the number seven printed on it  clutched to his chest, the jersey smelly since it hadn’t been washed since their loss against Karasuno at Nationals, the smell of aged sweat and grime not bothering him because it smells like his brother. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tsumu’s dead” is all he can say, eyes not moving away from the screen. He doesn’t tell them about the voicemessage- that’s for him and him alone. Maybe one day he’ll tell others about it, but for now...it’s like a secret. It’s intimate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s his brother’s last words. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His parents can’t get him to get up. How can they be so strong? They aren’t even crying! In the end, yelling and shouting and threats do nothing. Begging does nothing. They have to call Aran, his oldest friend besides Tsumu (but Tsumu’s never coming back, he’s gone forever), who takes one look at Osamu’s devastated state and asks if he can stay the night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Osamu doesn’t sleep that night- he only cries until he can’t anymore. Because there’s a part of his soul, of his heart, which he allowed to go away. And now it’s gone forever. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When he wakes up, it’s to a burning pain in his chest. His eyes snap open and he turns, hands hitting something wet, eyes squeezed shut and burning. He hacks, something wet pouring out of his mouth, wave after wave, keeping his mouth open. By the end of it, his head is resting against the cool ground, gasping for ragged breathes of air. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The-the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Miya Atsumu whispers, collapsing onto his side. He lays there for a few seconds, not really thinking, simply….being. At least, until it hits that he’s actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And that’s what gets him thinking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had...called Samu. He hadn’t picked up. Atsumu rolls onto his back, slowly opening his eyes: he’s greeted with a sky full of stars, so beautiful in comparison to what he just went through. He remembers hitting his head, the pain. He remembers being tossed around the water, chest started to burn, and then everything just….went black. And the sun had been up! Now, it’s dark. It’s night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lets out a moan, struggling to sit up. His arms feel weak and limp. By the time he manages to sit up, his head is pounding a continuous beat like the band during volleyball matches, carried by the continuous beat of the base drums. There’s also pain flashing up his hip. He resists the urge to place a hand there, knowing it’ll only make it worse. He closes his eyes, focusing on his heart, on his breath, on his head. On the thrumming fear and panic that is fighting to overwhelm him but he is Miya Atsumu, best setter in the nation, brother to Miya Osamu, disciple of Kita Shinsuke. That last thought draws a laugh out of him, which leads to him doubling over again in a fit of coughs which turns into hysterical laughter because he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu finally gathers enough </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>to open his eyes again, and what he sees only makes the panic increase. Even though the pounding in his head doesn't really help with anything, he’s somehow able to put his feet under himself, forcing himself to stand. Even with the pain that flashes through his ankle, it’s like survival mode suddenly got switched on in him. Pain doesn’t matter anymore. He automatically, almost instinctively, looks around to assess his situation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An island. An island in the middle of hell is what he’s in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s maybe only two meters or something of space that he has, a little larger than the Inarizaki’s cafeteria’s circular tables. It’s the top of the building- what building, he knows not. How he got up here? He has no idea. But it’s almost completely flat, bulging upward a bit at the center of the roof which is probably how he’s even here. There’s thin layer of goop and mud left behind by the water coating the surface. And beyond his small space of icky partial-darkness is just….water. It’s continuous, like the ocean. He can see the tops of trees sticking out of the water, but considerably less than when he had run through them hours ago? Probably hours. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He slowly turns, making a full three-sixty, keeping his foot stiff as to not draw more pain out of his join. Not a lot of other building are sticking out, most of them being one or two floors tall, just like the one he stands on. The scariest thing is how he can’t hear anything. No rescue chopper. No people calling for help. No screams. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nothing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wiping the tears from his eyes before they could truly fall, Atsumu toes the water. He’s already wet- what’s the point of remaining dry? He wades in, one step at a time, shivering as the cold water starts to freeze him to the bone. Crouching a bit, he holds his arms out to his sides, threading them over the surface to search for anything that could help him. It helps that the moon is out, casting a light glow across the water. But it also makes whatever shape he sees seem more horrific. He knows that if he can’t hear anything, that means people are dead. And if people are dead….people float. Bodies float. Atsumu shudders and nearly yelps when his left hand strikes something.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now what are ya?” Atsumu mutters. Keeping a grip on the object, he turns to look at it. He bursts into laughter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A bag of laundry. A fucking laundry bag. Judging by its weight, there’s stuff in it. Below it is a long, thick stick, which is probably the only reason it was able to remain floating. But then again, what is he going to do with a laundry bag with useless clothes? He decides to take both the bag and the stick. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he walks further out, probable only two or three meters from where he started, he starts to feel more and more scared. The water rises (just how badly built is this building!?). He stops when he’s reached hip level. He feels out with his foot and lets out a sigh of relief. One more step and he would of been flailing to stay floating. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Now </span>
  </em>
  <span>he searches some more, managing to gather a few tree branches that float his way. He feels like his mom at the hundred yen store, amassing anything that looks the slightest bit useful no matter how useless it actually is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he finally pulls all of his findings back onto his little island, he’s gathered: one laundry bag filled with mystery items; a pile of long tree branches; a dog’s chew toy; a child’s backpack; newspapers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The moon looks…...a long way from setting? He has no idea how moon cycle’s work. Even though he’s a little bit above the average student in class, one thing he is is observant. And how does that help him? He knows how to put things together fast− making connections, solving puzzles. Years of volleyball have also taught him that he can’t put things off until later. If he wants to succeed, he needs to do it as soon as possible. He arranges a barricade of sorts with the branches which leaves him sweating and in even more pain by the end. Two branches laid at the ends of his island. Then he hauls another over the open ends, making a sort of square in a jenga-like fashion. Then, at approximately the center of the length of each branch, he puts another branch, sticking out into the water so that they can gather anything that floats by. Then he takes the clothes out of the bag. He can’t really see how they look like and he doesn’t want to get his hopes up about their size yet. He’s excited when he sees that one of his mystery items are a blanket. He lays that and the clothes out to dry on three of the branches. He even keeps the bras, wrinkling his nose as he un-clips them and hangs them. He puts the backpack in the corner of his enclosure then places the dog toy on the ground. Lowering himself until he’s sitting, he then lies down, head resting on the make-shift pillow he’s created from the dog toy. He shivers as the slick ground sends cold up his back again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s scary. It really is scary. It must of been, what, an hour or two that all of this took? The pounding in his head has decreased but it’s still there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wonders how long he’s going to be here. The rescue teams, maybe they’ve searched this place already. Maybe he was too late. Maybe they thought he was a dead body and felt too lazy and let him float. Maybe nobody actually came. Maybe….maybe nobody will ever come. And just like he had thought hours before while sending his final message to Osamu, maybe he will die now. Except, instead of quick while drowning, it’s a slow death. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shivers and sniffles, his nose feeling strangely runny. He puts a hand in his pocket and pulls something out. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Phone</span>
  </em>
  <span>? He hopes. But, no. It’s only his wallet. He stares at it for a few more seconds before clasping both his hands over it. He rolls onto his side, tucks his arms and legs into his chest, and forces himself to sleep. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“HEEEEELP!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“PLEASE! IS ANYONE THERE!? PLEASE HELP UP!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“HEEEEELP!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu lets out a groan, opening his eyes to a not yet blue sky. It’s not black anymore, though, the stars barely visible now that the first rays of light from the sun have started to make their way across the sky. He feels horrible. His head is pounding again and his nose is watery. Must be the cold. He hopes the clothes dry properly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wait, why was he awake again?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“HEEEEELP!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu quickly scrambles onto his hands and knees, head poking above his barely effective barricade. A quick check confirms that everything’s still in place, a few new items caught against the branches he has sticking out. His jaw drops and his heart thuds when he sees who exactly is calling for his help:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two children. Just managing to keep afloat with their arms gripping onto the trunk of a tree, bareilly making it over. How long have they been floating for? Their arms, they must be exhausted or hurt or- Atsumu shakes his head. He can’t think about that right now. He needs to help. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“HEY!” He calls out, kicking his shoes and socks off, wallet falling to the ground. Damnit, he should of taken those off that last night so they could dry. He takes his shirt off too until he’s only in his shorts and underwear. Ignoring the flare of pain in his hip, he steps over the barricade. “CAN YA GUYS HEAR ME?” He shouts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“YES! PLEASE HELP US!” One of them calls out. The only thing he can make out is the top of the kids heads- a head of bright orange and a head of light brown. Judging by their voices, though, he thinks one of them is a girl and the other is a boyHe quickly wades into the water, remembering the steps from last night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“OKAY! Just...STAY RIGHT THERE! OKAY? IM COMIN OVER THERE!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight</span>
  </em>
  <span>. His foot curls around the edge of the roof and he pushes himself off, smoothly transitioning from a walk to a swim. He only uses his arms and one leg to swim through the water, making less time but at least he isn’t injuring himself even more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The kids are a bit far, probably a quarter of a mile, maybe a little bit more. But in the end, he makes it. He squeezes his eyes shut and ducks under the surface, kicking and reaching until he’s made it under the tree and onto the other side of it, bursting out of the water with a gasp. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe one, two seconds out of that, he suddenly has an armful of children. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gah!” He flails with his left arm, latching onto the tree. He wraps the other one around the kids, the poor things shivering and clutching to his chest. He breath catches at just how </span>
  <em>
    <span>small </span>
  </em>
  <span>they are. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Th-thank you” the boy stutters, voice raw and hoarse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No problem” Atsumu manages. “Hold on tight, alright? Do you guys thing you can move onto my back instead?” Without a word, the two have quickly shifted so that they cling onto his back, a leg each wrapping around his midsection. He pushes the tree until it’s no longer in his way then gets to swimming. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even thought they weight down on his back, making it harder to swim and move in general, it’s worth it. He was to use both legs now, keeping them under the water so that his ankle doesn’t hurt even more than his has to. After maybe ten, fifteen minutes, his hands press down on the top of the roof. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, here we go” Atsumu mutters to himself, bringing himself onto the submerged portion of the roof before going on his hands and knees. “Miya express has arrived at yer stop.” He jokes. He gets a small giggle in reply. The children get off and he can’t help, after one look at them, to pick them up and carry them the few meters it takes to get to dry land. They’re both not that heavy too, well, not as much as his cousin who’s probably older than them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There” he sets them down as gently as he can in his little island. He quickly some slightly damp clothes, carrying them over to the kids. “Take of yer clothes and put these on. Yer gonna get sick if ya continue wearin’ wet clothes.” The two nod, quickly stripping down and putting on the new oversized clothes they were given. Even though they’re still so young, Atsumu looks away, giving them what little privacy he can. He grabs the blanket and a woman’s blouse, using the blouse to dry himself off as best as he can, drying his hair before walking over the kids to dry their hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Damnit, he’s becoming too much like Kita. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what are yer guys’s names, hm?” Atsumu asks. The two small faces that look up at him are strangely familiar, like ghosts of the not-so distant past. The girl with orange hair, she looks almost identical to someone he’s seen across the net. The boy isn’t as much, but the curve of his eyebrows and color of his angled eyes rings a quite bell in his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m Hinata Natsu!” The girl exclaims, suddenly energetic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sawamura Aoi” the boy says with a shy smile, scooting closer to Natsu and burning himself further under the blanket. Ah- so he was right. He stares down at the two, the little siblings, he thinks, of two players on a rival team. Karasuno </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>from Miyagi, and that is where he is…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Older siblings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Were there any adults with you? Siblings?” He demands. Both of them shakes his head. Atsumu sighs in relief. “Then what were you doing all alone?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“School trip” Natsu mutters. Her eyes glisten with tears. “But I don’t know where any of my friends are, or my teacher.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Th-that’s fine!” Atsumu says. “I haven’ introduced myself. Miya Atsumu.” Now he needs to establish familiarity. “Yah can call me Tsumu. Ya have older siblings, hm?” The two look even more excited now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yah!” Natsu exclaims.”Shoyo-nii!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Daichi” Aoi softly says. Atsumu’s heart melts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m friends with both of ‘em. Shoyo, he’s good at jumpin’ ” Natsu fervently nods. Atsumu meets Aoi’s gaze. “And Daichi, he’s a good captain.” Aoi smiles. “Do you want to tell me more about yer brothers?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the two rant, Atsumu puts on a shirt and switches out his shorts. A bit tight around the thighs, but it’ll work. He puts his wallet in the pocket and hobbles over to the backpack, bringing it over to Natsu and Aoi before opening it up and going through its contents. He’s learned more about Hinata and Sawamura than he ever needs to know, but if it makes Natsu and Aoi happy, then-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s when it hits that he’s basically adopted two baby crows. Screw it- at least they’re all alive. It doesn’t matter who they’re related to or what he’s doing. Survival is key. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He has the kids sort through what’s inside of the backpack while he gather the few things that got caught around. It saddens him when he sees that it looks like the water hasn’t even started to receded. There a bunch of leaves, branches, and plastic bottles. He gathers the ones that are sealed and have water, juice, or energy drink inside of them. At least they won’t start to dehydrate? He knows that starvation is a problem but that Ghandi chap was able to last three weeks without any food. He knows </span>
  <em>
    <span>he’ll </span>
  </em>
  <span>be able to last that much time without food, longer if they get food every now and then, but he knows that the kids won’t be able to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s hands curl into fists. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>care about them! But somewhere deep inside of him, he wants to not care about them. He wants to worry about himself, about Osamu. And he told them to call him Tsumu! Why would he do that!?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hears a Natsu gasps and quickly turns on his heel, wincing as his hip shouts at him. “Natsu-chan? Did ya find somethin?” Natsu looks up and nods, small chubby hands holding up ziploc bags of sushi, fruit, and smushed onigiri. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Food!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Food” Aoi gasps, hands clapping together. Atsumu rummages through the small pile of things produced from the backpack. He gets the hand sanitizer, squirting a small portion into their hands. He walks them through the process of how to rub it properly- beneath the fingernails, around the fingers, on their knuckles.Then he splits up the vegetables- they’ll have the Sushi for dinner. It’s not a lot of fruit, being for a kid after all, but he still splits it unevenly, giving more to Natsu and Aoi and a small portion to himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After their “breakfast”, they get to work cleaning up the area. It makes Atsumu’s hip pain turn into a burn (stupid car), but he doesn’t want to know </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>sort of bacteria can grow down there. So he uses his hands to push all the slick goop and leaves and whatever mystery things are compacted on the ground into piles, which Natsu and Aoi scoop up and toss into the water, making little man-made islands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And after they’re done...it hits Atsumu that they’re still just </span>
  <em>
    <span>kids</span>
  </em>
  <span> when they asks him, with mud and gunk reaching past their elbows, if they can play in the water. It also hits him how he’s really playing into his role of big brother (even if just by a few minutes). He smiles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wash yer hands off first” he says. “Those clothes will be yer play clothes- anytime ya wanna play, ya gotta wash yer hands and change into those clothes since we don’t wanna get than we have’ta dirty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Heehee- </span>
  <em>
    <span>yer</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Aoi giggles. Atsumu rolls his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He watches Natsu and Aoi splash around in the water, making snowmen(?) out of the gunk they had tossed over. But they look like they’re having so much fun still. He watches them for a little bit longer before sneezes. “Ugh” he groans. He trusts Aoi and Natsu not to go too far. He gets his old shirt and wets it before using it as a rag to clean the base of their little abode. He wonders if he can get through a window, according to science and physics, there should be an air bubble inside of the building since the water level in there doesn’t shift to match outside water levels. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And they’ll also have to try and get some food….maybe he can find a refrigerator? A pantry? A store? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After he’s cleaned up the floor, he rips some some clothes by the seams on the side so that he can lay them across the roof like a sort of makeshift rug. Ripping off a thin strip, he wraps it tightly around his ankle. It helps. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After he’s done organizing, he drinks a fourth of a water bottle before capping it. He runs a hand through his hair, frowning at how stiff it feels. He runs his fingers through it, struggling to get all the knots out, but he makes it eventually. By then, Natsu and Aoi are drained-out. Atsumu makes them stand outside and dry for a little bit before giving them a new pair of clothes, washing their dirty ones to the best of his ability before hanging them over the long branches to dry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Natsu and Aoi are sitting together in the corner. Atsumu sits down with his back to the sun. Maybe he should of dragged that tree over. It would of been heavy, but it would of provided a sturdy weight for him to lean against. He lies down on his back, his legs bent at the knees with his feet on the ground, and crosses his arms over his chest. There’s nothing else to do but sleep, he guesses. He can be productive at night too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hears soft, barely audible footsteps. He doesn’t open his eyes but has to keep from opening them when he suddenly feels two bodies of warmth press against his sides. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he wakes up a few hours later with the sun having past it’s vertex in the sky, the two bodies are still pressed against him, his arms wrapped against them. He’s scared, oh yes he is, but at least now he has someone else to continue for, someone else to take care, someone else to ensure the survival of. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ya lil’ parasites” Atsumu mutters to himself before closing his eyes again and basking in the heat. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Days 3-6</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW for graphic descriptions of a corpse</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Over the course of the next two days, the day proceeds in the same way as the day before. Aoi and Natsu would check the “traps” which he had set to gather stuff. As the water finally began to recede (are they in a valley area? Is that why it’s taking so long?) with no help from the clouds that suddenly decided to invade the skies, making him feel like it’s going to rain any moment now, they’ve had to move the long branches. They get some...interesting stuff. Backpacks. Empty containers. Lots of trash and dead leaves. The best and worse item which they had gotten was a lighter. It gave Atsumu hopes of them being able to build a fire and keep warm while sending smoke signals, only to find that the little plastic thing was out of fluid. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two would go through their “treasures” of the day while Atsumu would strip down and thread through the surrounding water. It was honestly both nice and anxiety inducing as to how slowly the water was receding. For a few weeks when he and Tsumu had been in grade school, they had both developed (as their interests can’t only apply to one of them) a strange interest in the weather. He’s pretty sure their momma still has a video of one of them pretending to be the weatherman. Well, anyway, they crammed facts into their skulls. Even though he’s not the best of the best at school, like how Kita-san was, he admits he has a pretty good memory. So he remembers that by two to three days, a noticeable portion of water, when flooding occurs, should be drained naturally be evaporation and recession back into the ocean. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The water has probably only gone down ten centimeters tops. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Every other hour, Atsumu goes down to dive and see if there’s anything lurking under the surface. He finally manages, on the second day, to locate a window and sneak into the top floor of the building that he’s made a home out of. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he had predicted, all of the top floor until right above the top of the window was flooded. Other than that, it made a nice little air pocket. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He still remembers the joy he had felt, how intense it had been. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The building happened to be an apartment, he had discovered upon entry. The first thing he bumped into was the mattress. He considered taking it with him but it never would have dried. He pushed through the bedroom, filled with exhilaration and excitement. He quickly made to the closet and blindly grabbed whatever he could until his lungs burned. They were actually good clothes! A bit formal for his taste, but they were all mens clothing made in his size since he is a tall teen. Inside of the closet was also a suitcase which he had stuffed all the clothes in. He allowed it to float to the top of the closet before going back under the water and going to the room door, opening it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Down the hallway and straight to the kitchen had given him the surprise of </span>
  <em>
    <span>food. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He raided the cabinets which weren’t submerged in the water, giving him the sight of </span>
  <em>
    <span>food</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A lot of it isn’t edible on its own or worth taking with him, so he searched for ziploc bags and quickly sealed as much as he could. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He managed to put the ziploc bags of food into the suitcase before hauling it out of the window. By the time he emerged from the water, spots had been dancing before his eyes. He had stifled his coughs, tossing the heavy suitcase onto the roof. He took a few moments to catch his breath, staring into the murky depths while holding onto the edge, shivering at the cold. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then it hit him that Aoi and Natsu were too quite. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In less than a second, Atsumu rolled onto the roof, hip be damned. “Aoi? Natsu?” He calls out, freezing when he sees Aoi and Natsu just standing there, Natsu’s hand tightly wrapped around Aoi’s upper arm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Both of them are staring a dead body trapped in their little trap system, body bloated, eyes open, skin cut and bruised, the whole thing just looking </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Just the sight of it makes Atsumu want to throw up and he can’t even start to imagine what’s going on in Aoi’s and Natsu’s heads. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get away! Here, look through this!” Atsumu cries, catching himself as he stumbles on the concrete, bare feet slapping across the grey until he tosses the suitcase into the enclosure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tsumu” Natsu gasps. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey hey,” Atsumu tries to comfort, quickly turning Aoi and Natsu away from the nightmarish sight, wrapping his arms around them and lifting them up. Their legs dig into his side, arms grabbing at his bare skin for something to hold onto. He holds them tighter, Natsu and Aoi’s faces burrowing into his shoulder. He can’t move his eyes away from the body. Warm tears trace paths down the skin of his back. He holds the two tighter and walks backwards, blindly stepping over the makeshift barrier before setting the two down so that their backs are to the direction of the body. He quickly grabs the blanket, wrapping it around them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Goddamit, I should of gotten pillows and blanket. Tomorrow, then</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thinks, eyes catching on the sun’s point in the sky. He moves the suitcase in front of them and as if they’re also eager to forget what they just saw, the two are quick to unzip the bag and stare at the contents held inside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu steps towards the body, swallowing. He doesn’t want to touch it, he’s never wanted to ever be close to a dead body! The closest he’s gotten to death was moving to the side of the pavement to avoid a dead bird. His arms stiffen at the side as he looks down at the body. It looks like the eyes are following him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keeping his eyes closed the whole time, Atsumu dislodges the body. Tugging it through the water, he picked up speed before quickly picking the body out and- please gods don’t curse him- flings it away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A splash is heard but he never lets himself look at where it’s landed. Hopefully by morning it’s long gone, drifting into the horizon. And if it returns….he’ll just have to take care of it again in the morning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dinner consists of a protein bar for himself and two each for Natsu and Aoi, as well as splitting a bottle of sparkling water. His stomach pangs but he keeps himself distracted from that by going through the clothes in the suitcase. All hints of light are almost gone. He’ll have to work quickly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the last traces of sunlight have become shadowed by the cover of night, Atsumu’s eyes have gotten used to the dark and he’d been able to fold a decent number of stiff shirts and shorts and setting the new ones to dry. Since he’s got new clothes, maybe he can scavenge a knife as well and trim the older clothes so that they fit Aoi and Natsu better. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On the morning of the third day (technically fifth for him), it’s to something wet on his forehead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wha-,” he croaks, throat dry. His eyes instinctively open before snapping shut just as quickly, the sun too bright. When did it get so high? Usually he’s awake an hour at most after sunrise. He tries to move his arm to get rid of whatever is on his forehead only for something to swat his wrist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You need to rest,” Natsu grumpily scolds. “You’re sick! Shoyo-nii always makes me get good sleep and food when I get sick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Same!” Aoi exclaims and suddenly there’s something prodding at Atsumu’s mouth. “Eat!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His head is too fuzzy for him to know what he’s eating. He doesn’t taste anything. He doesn’t know what’s happening. He passes out after eating, coming in and out of consciousness. And he dreams. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He dreams of Sumu, and it’s scary. His twin is dressed in all black, hair slicked back and making him look completely different than he usually does. Face blotted with tears and discolored with red, he stares down at the family grave, Atsumu’s name having joined that of his grandparents. Atsumu tries to call for him, but nothing leaves his mouth and he’s forced to watch as Sumu just continues to look so...broken. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he finally wakes up lucid, it’s way past noon but not quite evening yet. Atsumu groans and turns onto his side, sitting up. Sometime during his unconsciousness, either Aoi or Natsu had wadded up a shirt or two and stuffed it under his head as a makeshift pillow. He sees that Aoi and Natsu are playing with sticks right outside of the enclosure. A glance past them, to his relief, affirms that the water level has decreased even more. They’ll have to move, that means. Once it’s low enough, he’ll and try and get them into the apartment. It’ll be a bit of a jump but at least they’ll have something more dry and uncomfortable. He wonders when search parties will finally discover them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pushes greasy, sweat coated hair away from his forehead. He doesn’t disturb the two yet, but grabs the leftover sparkling water and takes a few sips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” He calls out. Their heads snap to him and soon enough, they’re running at him, screaming something unintelligible. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tsumu, Tsumu!” They chant. “Rest-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I will” Atsumu says. “But I’m gonna grab some pillows and blankets real quick. Ya know the apartment? I can bring ‘em up and we can leave them to dry so tonight-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” Aoi crosses his arms, pouting. “Rest, Tsumu-nii. I don’t need a pillow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Neither do I!” Natsu is quick to agree. “You’re warm enough! And, plus, aren’t we going to get a new home tomorrow?’ Atsumu’s eyes widen slightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How d’ya know?” Atsumu mutters. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You talk in your sleep.” Bright, energetic, joyful Natsu chirps. Atsumu sighs. He manages a tired smile. He looks over their heads and gazes at the endless water, at the tops of the tallest trees which have just managed to start poking through the top. At apartment complexes that are shadows under the surface. The sun reflects beautifully off of the water. It could of been serene, if not for the unidentifiable objects which float around, at what he’s willing to guess could be bodies. He swallows, the image of a blotted corpse flashing over his vision. For a moment, the corpse splits into two, cloning itself and shrinking, sparse hair turning orange on one and light brown on the other. He steps over the branches and he must look off because Aoi and Natsu don’t say anything. He walks to the edge of the building, well, more like limping. He sits down and throws his feet into into the water. It shocks him out of the terrible vision which suddenly decided to plague his mind. He rests his elbows on his knees, fingers threading to hair. Taking in a shuddering breath, he squeezes his eyes shut until the tears go back where they came from. He can cry later, not right now. Just like a game, just like a game. He can’t cry during a game, no matter what happens; but afterwards, in the privacy of his room when Samu would be stress cooking or something, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>when he’d allow himself to break. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just like he had told himself and had muttered in his delirious state, everything is packed into the bulging suitcase and dropped into the water which has receded enough to uncover more than half of the window. The water in the flooded bathroom, by some miracle, </span>
  <em>
    <span>works</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They have clean water now! He let the two shower first while Atsumu explored the rest of the apartment, making sure there weren’t any dead bodies or anything. Turns out there were two: a father and his daughter, both hidden in a closet, probably thinking they’d be safe from the quake turn tsunami. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tosses them out the window of the same room he found them in. His mind grows number. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When it’s his turn to shower, he takes his time under the highest temperature. Sure, he’s half-submerged in ocean water, but besides that it’s a wonderful shower. He sent Aoi and Natsu to the dining room, since the large dining table reaches above the water, able to keep them dry. He somehow manages to change into a pair of black slacks and a soggy white shirt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If no one comes by the time the food in food in our bag runs out,” Atsumu says to the two, joining them on the dining table, “We’re going to have to leave and find help. It’s already pretty shi- horrible that no one has gotten to us yet.” Aoi and Natsu nod, looking better than they have looked in over a day. Almost one week. One week of this Hell. He himself isn’t feeling too good. Fever, sacrificing food and drink for Aoi and Natsu, and all of that paired with his injuries, it certainly isn’t doing him any good. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My brother’s name is Osamu,” he absently says. And that’s when he really, really tells them about himself. About his brother. About Inarizaki. Anything that comes to mind. And gods bless the two, they look at him with the highest degree of interest and awe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hopes that even after this Aoi and Natsu remain this pure and innocent. He can already feel his heart breaking at the thought of leaving them. That’s what survival mode does to you. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ya’ll get to see yer families soon.” Atsumu gently, hopefully soothingly, runs a hand through Natsu’s hair and then Aoi’s before placing a kiss on both of their foreheads. “Get some rest. Imma see if there’s anything I can pass as lights or anythin.” He heads down the hallways and into the bedroom. After standing there for what must of been a few minutes, he ducks under the water and screams. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>;-; poor Tsumu- you can tell he's not doing so hot, being a good big bro</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Atsumu, Aoi, and Natsu and the continuation of their journey home</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ALMOST near the end!!!!!!!!!!!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Exactly nine days after the tsunami-earthquake duo had shaken up Atsumu’s life does he actually admit that their situation so far might have been a little bit more than slightly problematic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The skin around his hip and ankle have grown dark, the bruise large and dark. As the water receded more and more, the three of them were able to find more things that could be put to use. This included soggy bandages which Atsumu hung from the window to sun-dry as Aoi and Natsu took a nap after eating a bunch of crackers and pushing it down with a protein shake each. For the first time since all of this started, Atsumu’s stomach hadn’t cramped from hunger. It’s worrisome when he thinks about it, coming to the realization that it feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird </span>
  </em>
  <span>to have </span>
  <em>
    <span>food </span>
  </em>
  <span>in his stomach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aoi and Natsu loved taking baths which made Atsumu laugh (and thus realize how hoarse and dry his voice had become in effect to how tight and dry his throat feels). They wouldn’t even change just so that they could enjoy each other’s company, the two splashing around in the tub, salt water-stained clothes becoming wet once again. As they played, Atsumu would lean against the wall on the opposite side of the bathroom, making sure the two don’t hurt themselves while also staring out of relief that </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes, they’re still kids</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Looking in the mirror was also something he intentionally doesn’t do. The few things he caught a glimpse of himself had been sort of trancelike because he always looked different each day, his skin either paler by another sleepless night or red and joyful thanks to the little tykes. There were a few small cuts on his cheek and a large abrasion on his shoulder/ The area below his eyes were dark and his cheekbones stuck out a bit more prominently, only a hop, skip, and a step away from making him resemble the corpses he’s had to throw out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After the bandages had dried, he kneaded them to get the stiffness out before tightly wrapping it around his ankle. Already resigned to the fact that it’s sprained, he can at least take care of it before he does something to really screw it up. Of course, it was uncomfortable to walk around with the wrap, hidden beneath sock and shoe and thus creating a strange humid warmth on his skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s only so much food that this apartment has that wasn’t water damaged, and it’s the top floor. The lower levels are probably in much worse shape. The past week has felt more like a month, to be honest, passing by so slowly. At least it wasn’t as bad as when they didn’t have an actual shelter, the force of the sun glaring down at them having occasionally given Atsumu a feeling akin to car sickness. Forced instinct already has Aoi and Natsu packing another bag- a traveling pack which Aoi had found- with some of the foods they like the most as well as the bottled drinks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even then, the bag probably only amounted to seven kilograms of food. Now that all that was left of the flooding was a little bit more than a meter of water, murkier than ever before now that all the grime is concentrated. It also makes it easier to see the bodies, looking like little plastic dolls thrown into a larger-than-life area of toilet water by an angry little sibling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sendai….it was a few kilometers away on the train. If they can make it to the tracks, then all they’d have to do is follow it north for a few more hours while hoping for the best and….</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nine days. So long, yet...it’s a good amount of time. Nine is better than ten or eleven o-or never. The never which he thought would apply to him on his very first day, somehow, miraculously, alive, even with the throbbing pain in different parts of his body ranging from head to toe he accidentally stubbed less than an hour ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The exhaustion is hitting him, though. It’s already way past noon and he doesn’t want them traveling at night- who knows what will find them? And no matter how much he wants to go </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>, to sling the pack on his bag and carry Aoi and Natsu under each arm, he knows that he’d probably collapse like that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t want to sleep </span>
  </em>
  <span>he bitterly thinks as he hears Aoi and Natsu’s laughter from the couch, a barrier of blanket between them and the top of the soggy furniture piece. </span>
  <em>
    <span>But...those two will only be able to survive only if I do the same</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And thus another day passes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s as if his body wants him to get going because when he wakes up on the mattress-less bed frame, neck aching slightly and once again reminding him that he’s thankfully alive enough to feel it, he’s able to watch the sunrise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And, gods, it’s actually beautiful today, the silent eeriness and lack of light from the rest of the town only succeeding to emphasize the natural beauty of the world. It makes him sick to the stomach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After washing up one last time, taking a shower, and changing into the comfiest clothes he’d been able to find from this place, he wakes up Aoi and Natsu. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey there sleepyheads,” he grins, patting their heads as they get up, yawning and licking dry lips. “We’re gonna get movin’ today, so make sure ya use the toilet and eat some protein.” Aoi stares up at him, eyes wide and happy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re leaving?” Aoi awes. Natsu soundlessly mouths the words beside him before squealing and springing up, running around the soggy carpet with slight squelch sounds sounding from where she steps. “We’re leaving! I call bathroom first!” Ai is quick to dash down the hallway. Natsu turns to Atsumu, hands fisted and excitedly waving up and down in front of her chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re leaving, we’re leaving! Tsumu-nii, Do you think I’ll be able to see Shoyou-nii soon?” Atsumu ruffles her hair, smiling softly down at her, his heart skipping a beat as sadness spreads through him. He wants them to get out of here. He wants them to make it home. Hell, he wants to see a doctor because gods he’s in so much physical pain right now…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he doesn’t want to leave Aoi or Natsu. And that Tsumu-nii….they’ve called him that on occasion these past few days, especially at night when the two would curl up against Atsumu and he’d sit up and hold them to his chest as they slept just so that their necks and backs wouldn’t hurt when they wake. He misses Osamu and hell he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure </span>
  </em>
  <span>that Samu misses him, and that’s probably the same for Aoi and Natsu’s big brothers. It’s probably worse for them since the two would probably have big-brother complexes or something. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After Aoi comes out in a fresh set of clothes, Natsu goes to the bathroom. Atsumu rearranges the food and quickly re-wraps his ankle, wincing when he sees that it doesn’t really look that better, the skin now red and a bit feverish to the touch. Not bad, though. Just one more day, </span>
  <em>
    <span>one more day</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Carefully, the three of them head downstairs. Thankfully, there aren’t any bloated bodies in the staircase, as far as Atsumu can tell. He keeps a firm grip on Natsu’s hand and the other on the rail. Natsu, in turn, keeps her hand in Aoi’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ground is covered with a thin layer of mud and grime, the road, where it’s visible, cracked from the quake. Pieces of pavement rise above the others, reminding Atsumu of the mountain forming demonstrations the teacher would show the class in grade school when learning about geography and how mountains formed over the millennia. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The forest is easy enough to spot. Even though there are fewer trees rising into the sky, just as many uprooted and held up by the lucky trees that held root, there’s still the fear that even the slightest breeze can shift one of them and cause it to fall. Atsumu forces the two to keep their eyes on the ground to watch their step and also so that they don’t see the few dead bodies within view. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ya got this, ya got this,” he softly told them as they walked, managing to retain warmth in his voice even as his body chilled and his stomach turned at the sight of children and mothers and fathers. He knows that Natsu and Aoi never disobeyed him, neither of them ever flinching, slowing down, or losing the excited spring in their step. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Going through the forest takes longer than he remembered. Perhaps it was the adrenaline. It will be quick, he knows. It’s only a kilometer, this section, he thinks. If he tries to remember, he can try and locate where exactly the lucky geography managed to snag his ankle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they finally emerge from that section of forest, much time hasn’t passed and the train-track is in view. Atsumu swallows when he sees that the cars, instead of being on the track, have been knocked off and sit on their side a few meters away. At least there are no bodies spilling out, making it look like an oversized kid’s set. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We just have to follow this” Atsumu affirms, adjusting the pack on his back. “If any of ya are ever feelin’ tired, just tell me, alright? I’ll carry ya for a little bit until ya feel better.” He glances down to see both of them nod before letting out a small breath of air and looking back up</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can’t see any buildings in the distance, just more trees to the side before they spread forward. The track probably turns. He knows for sure that they’re in Miyagi, and quite a bit in since on the train ride they had had to cross a river. It had been beautiful too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Absently, he pulls his wallet out of his pocket and flicks it open. Inside is the learners permit he got a few months ago as well as a plastic protected picture. The picture holder did its job because even though the top edges are crinkled looking and water damaged, he can see the picture just fine, just like the day he put it in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He chuckles at the joke picture his parents had taken of him and Samu in their first year, both of them throwing fists without any ill intentions, smiles just visible through the cake, chocolate,and frosting smeared across their faces. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Faster!” Aoi exclaims. “I want to make it home for dinner, Tsumu-nii. You and Natsu-chan can have dinner with us! Daichi-nii and ma make such good food!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Atsumu smiles. “I’d be honored ta have food with y’all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So can we hurry?” Natsu beams. “We can play volleyball too!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s all it takes, two little kids eager to get back home to their families. The cuts on Atsumu’s face itch but he quickens his steps and starts singing one of the many children’s songs he’s sure all kids in Japan were forced to learn. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s soon enough when Natsu and Aoi join in. All three of their voices aren’t loud, regardless of how happy they are. Even if you keep yourself healthy mentally, it doesn’t mean the same goes for your body. Their voices don’t echo into the surrounding forest. They don’t draw out birds or dear like some shitty musical. A helicopter doesn’t suddenly fly overhead with people dropping down to rescue them. When they take the turn, it’s not to suddenly see their families standing there in the middle of nowhere. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stop for lunch about four hours later with the sun a little past half-way through the sky. He carried Aoi for the past hour, relieved to give his arms a break. After downing a bottle of water and forcing the two to do the same so they don’t risk dehydration, they eat some crackers with unwrapped pieces of cheese singlet placed on top before continuing again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Natsu, the poor girl, trips about two hours after lunch. Well, not really trip, but her foot falls into a hole covered with mud. Her cry of pain had been loud and terrible. Once Natsu started crying about it, Aoi followed soon after. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, look! Look!” Atsumu exclaims, kneeling to help Natsu sit up and check out her leg as she grips the edge of her shorts. He winces when he sees how bent it is. She definitely can’t walk with that. But, on the bright side….</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Natsu looks up and Atsumu points with a now mud-caked finger. It’s distant, probably another hour or two of walking, but there are </span>
  <em>
    <span>buildings</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And along with those buildings also travels the faint sound of civilization. He feels inexplicably </span>
  <em>
    <span>angry</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If they were so close, then why did nobody come!?! Were they only focusing on the big cities? Did they even need help? But it’s Sendai, that he knows for shows. The outskirts, at least. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s home,” Atsumu breaths. He opens the pack up and only gets out the important things: two snack-sized packs of gummies which he gives to Aoi to put in his pockets, the three juice boxes that are the last of their liquids go in his own pockets, and he gives both Aoi and Natsu two lollipops each which they can suck on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They won’t have to stay the night after all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s smaller than Aoi so it’s easy to hold her to his chest, her head resting against his shoulder while Aoi’s rests on the back of the other. Her arms can’t wrap around them so her hands instead clunch at his shirt, legs wrapped around him. Aoi has a firm grip already so Atsumu keeps one arm below Natsu to support her and another across her back to keep her close. She falls asleep on him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe an hour from the city, even with his arms aching and having to force his legs not to shake, Atsumu bends down so that an exhausted Aoi can climb onto his back and also rest. His steps are heavier and it’s a bit harder to move but he pushes on. He knows all three of them have grown thinner, even with his efforts to at least keep Natsu and Aoi healthier than himself. Both of their arms are thin and even in her sleep Natsu’s eyes unconsciously move behind closed lids, left-hand clenching and unclenching around the cloth of his shirt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they enter the city…..it’s ethereal. The station is humongous and there are aid tents set up in the parking lot. But, for some reason, Atsumu avoids it. Even when people come up to him and ask him if he needs help, he shakes his head and holds Natsu closer to him. Aoi climbs down and takes Atsumu’s hand, forcing him to adjust how he holds Natsu. All around him: danger. Any one of the people around him can harm Natsu, Aoi, or himself and he can’t take that chance even after coming so far. Besides never being to Miyagi before, this is a new world made even newer by the days spent in a ghost town, the sole survivors of separate accidents. Gods, he wonders about the trauma Natsu and Aoi will probably now carry for the rest of their lives. Less than what he’ll get, he hopes. He holds his head high and glares at whoever dares to come close. The city still shows some signs of the tsunami and earthquake, cracks on the road but few on the buildings- they’re probably reinforced.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aoi,” he says. “Do you recognize this area?” The boy eagerly nods, speechless, mouth hanging slightly open. Atsumu doesn’t feel it to tell him to stop catching flies- it’s too pure and amazing of a sight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Little longer, little one,” he kisses Natsu’s hair before comfortingly squeezing Aoi’s hand. It feels too quick. It feels like a dream. It feels not possible. It feels………..</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Relieving. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do we need to take a bus?” Atsumu asks. “I have a few coins in my wallet- enough for us for a few tickets.” Aoi nods even faster, jumping up and down and clapping his hands. The people around them, he notices with disgust, avoid them, sending them pity filled looks and also slight sneers. Three dirty children...probably think they’re runaways, the terror that probably filled so many people days ago already forgotten. But it’s nice, that there are people who are able to get over it so quickly and probably have helped this place rebuild itself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s quick enough to find the station, for Aoi, the smart little boy, to locate which route to take and which stop to get off. And Atsumu, bless the bus-drivers soul, didn’t have to pay for anything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then all of them are a step closer to home. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Coming home to you</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>After five months and four chapters too much (remember that this was supposed to be a whumptober one-shot but I'm nearly physically unable to write less than 5k for an idea I love?) this fic is finally OVER. There are probably a shit load of grammar and spelling mistakes I'm too lazy to check for and edit, <em>but</em> I used Grammarly (free for life unless you pay for it!) on this chapter so there are 30 less spelling and grammar mistakes then there'd have been if I hadn't used it Also, this chapter was supposed to be written and released, according to my schedule, in two weeks. But I have to procrastinate on my AP Bio notes right now, so that's why I typed this out today ahead of time~ :D </p><p>Drop a comment!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s six o’clock, just a little past the start of sunset. The sky, admittedly, is beautiful. For once, Atsumu’s truly able to pay attention to how the light flits across the skies and across a mountain a few kilometers away. The pain in his hip is burning again even though his ankle feels a bit better. It’s probably nothing compared to Natsu’s poor ankle. After giving the driver his thanks, he carefully holds Natsu to his chest child helping Aoi off the bus before presenting his back for the boy to climb onto. He’s quick to get on, arms and legs wrapping around him, head resting on his other shoulder to that both are now occupied by two precious heads. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His heart pounds in his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aoi,” he leans his head on the kid’s, hoping that the slight pressure comforts him. There’s a few puddles on the sidewalk, providing Atsumu with the opportunity to catch a glimpse of himself. In his warped reflection, he catches messy, greasy blond hair. A weary face with a long, thin cut across his cheek. He stops looking before he could see his own eyes. “Don’t sleep, kid.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sleepin’,” the kid replies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You would,” Natsu replies. Atsumu doesn’t hold back the fond chuckle that falls out of his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is this the right way?” He asks. “Yer gonna have’ta tell me when we’re at the right house.” He feels Aoi nod against his shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. We’re close.” Aoi mutters. It’s less than five minutes later that they’re in front of a house that looks like the rest, except for the fact that o the driveway in chalk, there are characters for fortune, luck, and fortitude written all over in addition to messages of hope, luck, and comfort. All the lights are on inside. Atsumu sees a shadow quickly pass by one of the curtained windows. Right… people are probably preparing dinner at this point. He wonders what Samu is doing at home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It feels daunting. It’s only a few seconds, barely anything compared to how much they’ve walked. But Atsumu’s feet hurt, he’s pretty sure he has more than a few blisters at this point, and his whole body just aches in general. His arms are stiff and frozen around his kids and maybe it’s the knowledge that once he knocks on that door, once that door opens, once a broken family stares at him and their missing piece, he’ll have to let them go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t want to let them go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And never let me go </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks, hoping that Natsu and Aoi know this. That no matter what happens now, they’re going to be stuck with him in his life. He’s going to call them every day for a while, and then only once a week for the rest of their lives. He’s going to turn them into mini hims. He’s going to watch their love for volleyball flourish. He’ll make year-round trips to Miyagi, coming to their games, cheering them on. Even when he goes pro he’ll continue supporting them. He’s pulled out of his sudden train of thought by the shifting in his arms and sudden Natsu is looking up at him, her face made even softer by the soft glow of the street lights slowly turning on. There are tears in her eyes, her lower lip trembling. Her grip on him has grown painfully tight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nii-chan,” her voice trembles. “Please, I don’t wanna go. I want you to stay. You and Aoi-chan. Brothers.” Atsumu’s heart breaks, especially when Aoi agrees with her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come home with me?” Aoi says, face buried in the crook of Atsumu’s neck, tears cold on his exposed skin. “Don’t leave me alone, ‘Tsumu-nii.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But what about yer families?” Atsumu croaks. It’s the wrong thing to say, obviously, judging by the look on Natsu’s face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yer family!” She exclaims and Atsumu bites back a laugh. They’re picking up from him. “So-so-so” she stutters before finding her train of thought again, “family stays together! So you stay! We all stay! A-and your family, they can also come and stay and we can all be one big family and have lots of good food and play lots of volleyball and w-we’ll be happy and you’ll never leave and-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright,” Atsumu soothes. “We can talk ‘bout this later, but yer families are probably worried. And don’t y’all want food? It’s ‘round dinner time. We can have somethin’ warm-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Warm food” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Aoi and Natus gasp at the same time. Atsumu grins. Besides food, he’s thinking about somehow getting antibiotics, bandages, and salve since now he thinks he should actually care about the fact that certain parts of his body have perpetually been in pain and that even when it was warm, his body would have chills. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aoi crawls his way over Atsumu’s shoulder so that he’s being carried in Atsumu’s arm. Natsu is cozily resting on his hip with her hands gripping his shirt in a firm hold while Aoi wraps on arm around Atsumu’s neck while tilted towards the door, his tiny fist poking the doorbell before both of his arms wrap around Atsumu’s neck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“One minute!” A feminine voice calls from inside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take yer shoes off,” Atsumu mutters. “Don’t forget about yer manners.” In two seconds, three small shoes are on the ground. Atsumu slips out of his own, dirty and tattered. He stands on the welcome mat, listening to footsteps growing louder and louder in time with his own heartbeat. He can hear the blood in his head and a buzzing sound as the lock click and the hinges creak, door seeming to open in slow motion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He really hopes this is the right house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman in front of him is shorter than him by a little less than fifteen centimeters, eyes a bright green and hair dark brown. She natural smile on her face that contrasts with the slight shadows under her eyes slowly drops into a look of shock. Atsumu wonders how they look like. Dirty and haggard with skin streaked with dirt, himself looking like a dressed-down version of a salaryman who went through a military training camp with the well-wrinkled, no longer fully white collared shirt and black slacks faded to a strange dark greenish color. Natsu with her obviously something’s-wrong-with-that-thing foot and Aoi with the dried tear tracks already starting to come to life again as the waterworks start anew. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I really hope yer Sawamura-san,” Atsumu says, shifting a little and causing pain to shoot up his leg. He bows as much as he can with the two little ones holding onto him but they just giggle at the movement. “D’ya mind if I can come in?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“O-of course,” she stutters. “A-and please, you don’t have to bow. Never. I,” her voice cracks. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Aoi</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mama!” Aoi exclaims. He expertly slides down Atsumu’s body and hops to his mom. The woman, much stronger than she looks, easily lifts him up into a tight hug. She closes her eyes, tears running, for a few moments. When she opens them, she, once again, is frozen in shock as her gaze focuses on Natsu. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-is that,” her voice wavers. “Natsu-chan?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi auntie!” The little girl waves, somehow managing to huddle closer to Atsumu. Sawamura-san blanches. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-I,” she falls into a deep bow. “PLEASE MAKE YOURSELF COMFORTABLE ON THE COUCH OH MY GODS OH MY GODS THEY’RE AT THE PARK I HOPE DAICHI HAS HIS PHONE HOOOOOOONEEEEEEEEEEEY TOSHI!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“YES HON?” Another voice calls back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“AOI! OUR SON! HE’S HERE! AND SO ARE THE HINATA’S GIRL, NATSU!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu shuts the door with his foot, Aoi locking the door for him. He’s instantly wary of what’s around him. The window can be easily broken to escape. The door is locked but it’s simple enough to open and run. The puddles are probably from rain and not the tsunami due to the lack of any water damage of any sort in the area. There’s so many pictures in the living room, nearly covering all of an entire wall. The TV is running a twenty-four-hour news channel, giving Atsumu a clue as to what the family has probably been doing the past few days. There’s a delicious smell coming from the kitchen and his throat is dry but he just carries Natsu to the couch, laying her down with her foot on top of the softest cushion he could find based on touch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Sawamura parents continue talking to each other, footsteps quickly racing down the staircase before there’s a tall, kind-looking man racing towards Aoi, picking up the boy and hugging him tightly, crying. What did the woman call him? Toshi? Sawamura-san, in the meantime, is on the phone, the call only lasting a few seconds before she too is joining the family hug. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s colder in here,” Natsuo randomly says. Atsumu nods in agreement. It feels like he’s standing a foot away from a raging fire, his body burning from the inside out. He hears Sawamura-san say: “They’ll be here in five minutes.” He wonders if she had called her son, Daichi. At this point, he knows so much about the guy that he’d be surprised if they don’t become friends. Same with Shouyou. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>-------------Meanwhile on the other end of the phone call-------------</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sand volleyball is noticeably more difficult than regular volleyball due to the court being, well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sand. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s harder to run in, more tempting to use your foot to save the ball, and the net feels higher as well due to powerful jumps being reduced to pitiful hops. Because of the effort that goes into it, in Sawamura Daichi’s opinion, it’s a good way to blow off steam, to forget about things, and to trick himself into enjoying himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s become a daily thing, ever since the tsunami and earthquakes hit. He doesn’t have to go to college yet, and it might be delayed even in the future due to recovering from the natural disaster. The team of what was called Karasuno’s golden year finds comfort in each other, helping to distract two of their players from the pain they feel at home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is the...twelfth day that his little brother and Hinata’s little sister have been missing. Officials found the bus their class had been riding, littered with too small bodies, backpacks, and crawling with insects that have started disfiguring the corpses even more. They didn’t find Aoi or Natsu in the wreckage or the surrounding area. Officials had quickly toured a flooded town close to the city in a slight valley-like area but they found no signs of life, no sounds, nothing out of the ordinary except for a bunch of fallen trees have made their way to the top of a building, somehow resting in a vaguely geometric pattern. Daichi had wondered, after that report, how many had died? Where was his brother? If he was dead, where is his body?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Today, as usual, he and Hinata are at the park on separate teams. Kiyoko, Koushi, and Asahi have, as loyal as ever, also come. Yamaguchi, Yachi, and Kageyama join Hinata on the other team, Tsukishim lounging on the side as a very biased and strange ref. None of the seconds years come- ah, they’re third-years now, right- which is a bit disappointing as he wants a lighter atmosphere with Nishinoya’s and Tanaka’s antics. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re well into the second set when he receives the call from his mom, an impromptu water break starting as he wipes his forehead of sweat and brushes the sand off his arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi mom,” he says. “What-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He found Aoi and Natsu.” His mom sounds like she’s crying at the same time. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No. No no no- what’s up with that voice? Aoi and Natsu...they’re dead. Please, no, they can’t be they can't be nononononononon</span>
  </em>
  <span>-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Natsu’s on the couch right now and oh my gods, Aoi, I think he might have frown a few centimeters? He’s definitely taller a-and </span>
  <em>
    <span>gods</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Daichi, please come home.” Her voice breaks. “I recognize the young man they’re with and I- please, I need to know that this isn’t a dream.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“O-okay.” Daichi swallows, fears vanishing. Someone found them. Someone brought them home </span>
  <em>
    <span>his little brother home</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hopes the man who brought them isn’t too strange. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-HINATA!” He yells. Hinata jumps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Daichi-san! Yes?” Hinata exclaims, successfully squirming out of Kageyama’s hold. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Natsu’s at my house.” The whole pitch goes quiet. Hinata’s face freezes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Someone found Aoi and Natsu. They’re at my house right now- my mom just phoned me.” Everyone looks stunned. He doesn’t wait for them to say anything, just pulling on his shoes and stuffing his socks into his pockets before starting a jog that turns into a sprint too quickly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“HEY, WAIT UP!” Someone calls but Daichi can’t wait. He has a family to get to, a family to complete after too many days of being incomplete. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>------------Back at the Sawamura household-------------</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do ya have a first aid kit or anythin’?” Atsumu asks. Sawamura-san quickly nods. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes! Of course! Do you want me to help you-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” He shakes his head. Right now, he doesn’t want to be touched by anyone he doesn’t know, even knowing how good people the two are. A minute later, he has a roll of gauze, a small box of adhesives, a small box of ointments and creams, and a bowl of warm water with a washcloth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Sawamura’s sit on the other couch with Aoi sandwiched between them. They silently watch as he gently wipes at Natsu’s ankle with the dampened washcloth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want us to call a docto-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” Both Atsumu and Natsu say. Even though she must be in some pain, Natsu says the word much more brightly and energetically. “Tsumu-nii is the best! He can do anything better than anyone!” He feels his cheeks burn hotter than they were before. The two adults laugh. After gently rubbing an anti-inflammatory cream into Natsu’s skin, cautious of every single one of her flinches, he tightly wraps the gauze around her ankle and under her foot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’ll take care of himself later, in private. He refolds the washcloth, dabs it in water, and wipes his face, the warmth soothing. He hopes he’s got all the first off so he no longer looks like some hobo. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After he’s done, he places everything on the coffee table. Then he joins the staring game staring at the two adults while Natsu huddles close to him, wiggling under his arm and gripping onto his forearm with both of her hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My name is Sawamura Toshiwara,” the man introduces himself. “My wife, Sawamura Chiyo. You can call me Toshiwara.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And me Chiyo,” Chiyo says. “I- I can’t express how grateful we are. We’ll never understand what happened these past few days but what we do know is that you took care of the kids. You kept them alive and well. And for that-” she slides off the couch, her husband joining her, both of them sinking into the deepest of bows. “We’ll forever be in your debt.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A-ah.” Atsumu stammers. “Um, please get up? This uh it feels strange.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Toshiwara chuckles. “It must, I understand. I feel like I’ve seen your face before. Do you happen to play volleyball?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu nods. “My name is-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miya Atsumu-nii!” Aoi exclaims proudly, stars shining in his eyes. “He says he’s a setter, which is the most important spot! And he played with Shouyou-san and Daichi-nii on TV! He says that he’ll make Daichi-nii’s team lose this year and he has a brother who makes really good food! Can we call over Osamu-nii so that he can make us really good food?” He asks his mom, feet kicking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Osamu</span>
  </em>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door slams open. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“MOM?” A warm, familiar voice calls. Lighter brown eyes meet darker brown eyes, the latter widening. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, you’re- Miya Atsumu?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Atsumu replies. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Things settled down quickly. Daichi lended Atsumu some of his clothes. Of course, the guy noticed that Atsumu wasn’t exactly doing well. And somehow knowing that Atsumu is a stubborn guy (this guy is another Kita-san, isn’t he…), he just gives him fever reducer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you’re going to the doctor tomorrow,” Daichi frowns at him. “That hip and ankle are far from even mildly healthy.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Too serious</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yer’ll have’ta carry-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will carry you. I have carried people before. You look thinner than you did a few months ago. I can probably bench press you.” A fiercer version of Kita-san, then, but equally as protective and caring. And he doesn’t doubt the bench pressing part, even though he’s got a good ten centimeters on the guy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dinner is surprisingly loud. The Hinata’s have come over, the whole family orange-haired and clones of each other with the same energy. It’s smothering and makes him feel like he’ll have to run any moment now. The only thing keeping him from panicking is Aoi and Natsu sitting next to him, scarfing down so much food, while Daichi’s steady gaze from across the table keeps him rooted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mamma. Pappa. Uncle. Auntie.” Natsu seriously says, causing the table to quiet down. Her face is serious and ATsumu wonders what she’s going to say. “Aoi and I have decided that we want Atsumu-nii to actually Atsumu-nii, so he has to be part of the family.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I basically am already,” Atsumu says through a mouthful of food, politely hiding his mouth his hand. Natsu shakes her head, frowning. She looks at Aoi and nods at him. The boy nods back. Then he slowly points at his older brother. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have to marry oniichan.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Both of them choke and Hinata laughs, probably happy that he wasn’t chosen. Atsumu’s eye twitches. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Aoi</span>
  </em>
  <span>-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gay marriages aren’t legal in Japan,” Daichi says. “We wouldn’t be able to-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then move to America.” Aoi chirps back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We can talk about marriage later.” Atsumu warily says. There must be something off with his voice as it causes the two kids to quickly change the topic. Daichi relaxes and looks down at his food. “But don’t worry,” Daichi looks up and Atsumu takes the chance to wink at him, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Later</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After dinner, which is very filling, there’s dessert. The icecream spreads a nice chill through his whole body, making him feel even better now that the fever reducer is taking effect. He borrows a phone and dials a number he knows by heart, sitting in the bathroom so that he has privacy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” A weary voice with a slight note of hope says. “Miya Osa-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know who ya are, dumbass,” Atsumu says. “Before ya say anything, I’ve acquired two small children so ya can’t use the “yer the youngest” card on me anymore.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Separated by so many kilometers of buildings and mountains and people, Atsumu listens as his brother starts sobbing, the noise only increasing when a request is sent for the audio call to become a video call. And once Osamu catches sight of Atsumu, hair still greasy and disordered since he still has to shower, the long, shallow cut on his face now stark against now clean, feverish skin, he just cries even more buried his face in a hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“MOM! DAD!” Osamu screams. And now Atsumu is also sobbing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A little past midnight, the front door isn’t kicked open. No, Atsumu unlocks it, opens it as casually as he can, and lets Aoi and Natsu attack “SAMU-NII!” before they’re forced to let go so that the teen can body-tackle Atsumu, wrapping all of his legs around his blond twin, crying into his shoulder. Hinata and Daichi watch from the couches, the TV now on a children’s channel playing </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sailor Moon</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All in all, it’s an amazing day/night, probably the best in his whole life. And even though he’s calmer now, he’s feeling better, he’s more put together, he can’t sleep. All the kids are camped out in Daichi’s room, five futons spread side by side because Atsumu refused to take the bed from Daichi. Osamu sleeps closest to the bed, Atsumu sandwiched between his brother and Natsu, Shouyou sleeping beside his sister. Aoi, at some point, had crawled out from under his blanket to sprawl on top of Atsumu. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s probably three in the morning when he hears Daichi get up. The guy gets up too quietly, too gracefully, for having just woken up. He watches Daichi turn to look over the five, forcing Atsumu to close his eyes so that he isn't caught. He only opens them after he hears the bedroom door close with a slight </span>
  <em>
    <span>click</span>
  </em>
  <span>- he didn’t hear it open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Carefully as to not wake them up, he shifts Aoi back to his futon, the boy instantly latching onto Natsu. He slides his leg out from under Atsumu’s and lifts his brother’s arm from his shoulder. Then he too exits the room, wincing as the hinges make a sound too-loud in the silence. How did the guy not make a sound?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finds Daichi in the backyard, the door left slightly open. He’s sitting in the grass, looking up at the sky. There are so many stars. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu wordlessly sits next to the guy, taking a moment to look at him. Smooth face. Smooth jaw. Small nose. Large eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’re ya doin’ awake?” Atsumu asks first. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I could ask you the same.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think ya want to know that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell me everything that happened. Even before you found my brother.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“. . .Osamu didn’t even wanna know. I don’t think ya-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not your brother.” Daichi’s look at him now, head tipped to the side. “We’re not close. The only things I know about you are from one match and about ten hours and counting of being with you. I won’t be impacted or hurt or anything by whatever you say because even though I’m thankful for what you’ve done, I still don’t know you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And for some reason, that hurts. Natsu and Aoi idolized their brothers so, of course, they talked about them. Atsumu talked about Osamu just as much. He knows too much about Daichi, more than his friends probably even know. Because besides the stories, he also got analysis. Even though they’re barely in grade school, it’s hard to remember that even kids are smart, that they have the ability to think and feel more than sadness and joy and want. Natsu talked about her brother’s perseverance and how he was so disheartened every time the school told him that no, they can’t have a volleyball team yet due to the lack of interest. That even his friends would tease him for playing due to not looking like the stereotypical player with the stereotypical large height. Aoi would talk about how his brother would get stressed at times, being in college prep class in addition to being the captain. How he’d pull all-nighters and no one would know due to how well he hides it except that he eats a heavier breakfast after pulling one. And he’s pulled a lot. That after Nationals, when Karasuno made it so far but then lost, just like that...he didn’t cry until a week later, after the sadness from the loss was gone and was replaced by confidence and a drive to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>better</span>
  </em>
  <span>. When no one was really thinking about it anymore. That’s when he broke down in the middle of the night, Aoi able to hear it from next door but too scared to walk over and comfort his brother. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know ya, though. Yer brother talks a lot.” Atsumu pays attention to Daichi’s expression. Nothing changes. But he notices the exhaustion in his eyes, deeper than what he saw in his own eyes in the mirror. The guy is more complex than he thought. Even from the stories, he at least seemed kinda simple in addition to what he saw during that fateful match. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Someone who, </span>
  <em>
    <span>for now</span>
  </em>
  <span>, doesn’t really have a true opinion of him. Which means someone he can confide in without fear of really being judged. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he tells him the whole story. And he doesn’t hide anything. He tells him his motives, what he can remember himself thinking at the moment, what he thinks now. The sun rises in the sky and he tells him about how the light behind his lids told him that he’ll see another day in this world. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now that you know everything important about me,” Atsumu says, elbowing Daichi in the side, “You can marry me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gets a flick to the head in return.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take a shower and eat some food next,” Daichi huffs. “As I said before, you have weight you need to put on it doesn’t look like you’re leaving Miyagi anytime soon. I’ll cook something-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can cook?” Atsumu asks, getting up first and holding a hand out to the older boy. He takes it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Daichi raises an eyebrow. “You can’t?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Atsumu emphasizes, “but Samu’s the real foodie. Ya should trade recipes. Or make a feast together. His cookin’s amazing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daichi lets out a hum, fully opening the backyard door before closing him. Even though they both have been awake the whole night, neither feel tired. There’s no sound of anyone awake in the house. Just as quietly as before, Daichi makes his way to the kitchen and gets plates, and pans out with barely a sound. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My foods not that good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another thing that Atsumu learns is that Daichi is a good liar, especially when he’s too humble to even believe that he’s anything more than an average guy. His cooking’s almost as good at Samu’s, and maybe that’s bias speaking or the fact that he’s never heard of half the foods the guy has cooked before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s nice. Just talking to this guy at a time when nobody should be awake. Someone who didn’t spill into tears like Samu probably would of, who would have forced him to talk more about his feelings or sign-up for therapy like his parents. He never said </span>
  <em>
    <span>I understand </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And that’s how Atsumu likes things to be. And Samu, that glut, wakes up just when the food’s done cooking, eyes shining with joy before he’s silently shedding a few tears before hugging Atsumu. Until then, Atsumu had completely forgotten about the past almost-two weeks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Food” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Osamu groans after having hugged his brother for a sufficient amount of time. “Smells good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s more than enough for everyone.” Daichi holds a plate of some bite-sized things to Osamu. The boy takes one and only after a single bite, he’s quickly asking Daichi for the recipe and all the ingredients he uses, and what brands he recommends. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He replies with “Just whatever my mom buys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Six Years Later. . . . . . . . .</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>They won the game. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They beat the other team. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They...they </span>
  <em>
    <span>won</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Miya Atsumu, national-level setter for the division 1 team, the MSBY Black Jackals. He leans against the wall in the hallway, laughing when two small bodies (taller than when he last saw them a year ago) collide with him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tsumu-nii!” They both exclaim. “You and Shou-nii did so well!” Natsu exclaims. “Like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>wow </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was amazing! Like </span>
  <em>
    <span>guam! </span>
  </em>
  <span>And </span>
  <em>
    <span>blams</span>
  </em>
  <span>! All over the place!” Aoi pushes her aside, a grin splitting across his whole face and giving Atsumu a nice view of a small piece of food stuck in his teeth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! You’re so much better than the setters at school and they never believed that you were so good since they never watch the games since they like the Schweiden Adlers better. Pretty bad opinion, I say. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Now </span>
  </em>
  <span>they’ll have seen just how good you are!” Aoi punches a fist in the air and then squawks when he and Natsu are both pulled back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Behave yourselves,” a deep, warm voice warms. Atsumu feels himself relax and his inside warm to a comfortable level. His hair is longer but still technically short. Combed back, a few loose strands fall over his brow, giving him a boyish appearance that makes him look nice when paired with that jaw. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Enjoy the game?” Atsumu smirks. “Thought ya’d go jumpin’ onto the court.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Still see that ya haven’t got rid of that accent.” Daichi badly mimics. “I got held up by a capitalist-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tetsu-nii!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“-and then Kageyama and Hinata decided to tackle me, so that’s probably going to be one of the many talks of the press. My work buddies will probably be wondering why two players from different teams decided to, and somehow managed to, knock a police officer to the ground. Would have been worse with you in the mix.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I would have loved to tackle ya anytime-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop flirting,” Aoi deadpans. “Also I’m hungry, so take me to food.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so they go out for food, faces that Atsumu doesn’t know but others do know scattered around the large room they had reserved ahead of time. It’s so happy in here, the atmosphere carrying the feeling so well that it’s infectious. Karaoke has been set up and it’s fun to see his team captain and libero try to do a duet of some American song, the katakana transcription of the lyrics barely making it sound like the actual song. Yet, he finds himself singing along. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Suito kyarorain bamu bamu bamu~” people around the room cheer, drowning out the background music. It’s like a wave, drowning out the rest of the world, the rest of his thoughts, pounding into every square inch of his body. The song ends with a large uproar, the two players on stage bowing, faces flushed from the heat, exertion, and alcohol. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Daichi</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Atsumu preens when he feels a hand on his shoulder, leaning into the touch. He raises his own hand up and holds it, fingers easily entwining after having done that so many times. And even though it hurts sometimes to know that it isn’t written down on paper, that they don’t really have what people in other countries have...the matching rings on their fingers mean so much to him, just like how that sleepless night out in a backyard means so much to him, being the day that all of this was really allowed to start. And even though those days of pain in the gap between his second and third years have left marks on him that he doesn’t really notice anymore, has sometimes left him trembling and scared in the middle of the night, it has led to better memories, to a family he’d never have without it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m happy</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Have you dropped a comment yet? Please do! Also, the ship stuff, the nice, very good AtsuDai at the very end, that's in honor of a Japanese court ruling the national ban on same-sex marriages being unconstitutional. So, I decided, why not celebrate this by throwing in a very much same-sex ship (a rare-pair too awooga~) into the fold? I mean, I've already got Atsumu x child acquisition in this whole fic, why not make him have an actual love who anyone can fall in love with which is the main reason I can ship Daichi with so many people? Exactly! 'Twas too good of an opportunity. Once again, please leave a comment I feed on them omnomnom</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>